What if every magical creature you'd ever heard of was real, driven into hiding by an army of violent zealots? This is reality for Sarah Heisen and Porter Collins. Sarah is a sphinx living a life of luxury in her family's mansion. Hidden from all da...
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Chapter Fifteen
(Ozzie)
Ozzie watched the sun set, sitting with his back against a tree. A few feet away from him, a small fire crackled, and the scent of a cooking squirrel wafted through the air. He glanced at the fire to make sure the meat wasn't burning, and then turned his attention back to the objects he had in his hand.
Two small pebbles sat in the palm of his right hand. There was nothing special about them, he'd just picked them up off the ground a few minutes ago, but he grinned in anticipation of what he planned to do with them. Clutching them in his fist to make sure he didn't drop them, he drew his knife with his other hand and began to saw at the fabric of his trench coat. It was still hot out, and the coat was uncomfortably warm, which was why he was sitting so far away from the fire. He glanced at it again, and then turned his attention back to his work. The threads that his coat was made of were tougher than any piece of fabric a civilian would wear, and it took several minutes of sawing at it before it started to fray. When it did, he sheathed his knife, grabbed a single strand of black cloth, and pulled on it. Soon, he had a string six inches long, and he gave it a sharp tug to break it free.
Now came the tricky part. He opened his other hand and took one of the pebbles. In the waning light, he could barely see them, so he reluctantly scooted closer to the fire. Another glance told him that the squirrel hadn't burned yet, and so he focused on the pebbles again. One of them he moved so that he was holding it between two fingers, and cautiously maneuvered the string with his other fingers so that the two were even. Then, with dexterity only a trained Slayer could have, he used the fingers that weren't holding the rock to tie a knot around it. Finally finished, he tossed it into the air and caught it by the string, letting it swing around like a tiny pendulum.
"Dang it, I'm gonna need glasses now," he moaned, rubbing his sore eyes. Even in the firelight, it had been difficult to focus on something that small for so long.
He wasn't done yet, though. He took the second pebble now and held them against each other. There was a spell he'd been taught during his tracking lessons, and as he sat there he tried to remember the words he needed to cast it. He laughed quietly to himself. Who would have thought that he'd actually regret not paying attention in class? He brought both stones up close to his mouth and whispered to them. Then, smiling, he threw the one he hadn't tied to the string into the night.
Immediately, the second pebble leaped from his fingers, trying to chase after the one he'd thrown. Only the string he'd tied around it kept it from escaping. Ozzie stood up, letting the little rock point out in front of him like dog straining at its leash, and followed it. After a few steps, it started to point downwards, so he crouched down and ran his hand over the ground in front of him. The pebble drifted back and forth, always pointing to the same place, as if saying "Warmer, warmer, colder." Finally, he reached out with his other hand and picked up the pebble he'd thrown away. The rock he'd tied up immediately followed its path upwards.
